


Call Me?

by PjCole



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shop, Fluff, M/M, Short, flustered!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PjCole/pseuds/PjCole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today was the day, the day Dean would finally do it. Of course, yesterday had been the day too as had many of the past few days, but he meant it this time. Today he would finally write his number of Castiel’s Chai Tea Latte. He really would, so Sam should just stop snickering already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me?

Today was the day, the day Dean would finally do it. Of course, yesterday had been the day too, as had many of the past few days, but he meant it this time. Today he would finally write his number on Castiel’s Chai Tea Latte. He really would, so Sam should just stop snickering already. 

Admittedly, it wasn’t really Sam’s fault he found the whole thing laughable. Dean and that quiet guy in the trench coat had been shamelessly flirting (albeit oddly, Sam hadn’t really caught it at first) for three good months now. For about two of those three months Dean had been telling Sam about his ‘master plan to woo’ too. So, Sam couldn’t be blamed if every time Dean blushed at Castiel’s smile he bit back a laugh. He was just happy for his brother, even if said brother was going to die alone due to nerves. 

Before Dean could punch his little brother in the side for laughing at his ‘Seriously man, I’m gonna do it’ a little too hard, the bell above the door let out it’s dreary tune and in came the first customer of the day. 

The shop was never too busy on thursday’s, but it did have a steady flow of lazy college students and irritated businessmen. Which prevented Dean from over thinking his plan too much. By the time Castiel’s familiar trench coat became visible outside the shop’s window Dean had talked himself in and out of it only a few, or 5, times. 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel greeted, with that small private smile of his. 

“Hiya Cas, the usual?” Dean grinned back, loving that he could say things like ‘the usual’. He never really thought this place would get any regular customers, at least any worth remembering. Then this guy came in, decked out in what Dean affectionately referred to as ‘holy taxaccountent’ attire, asking for a Chai Tea Latte with extra whipped cream. Dean had been a lost cause the second those otherworldly blue eyes looked at him, seemingly seeing through his tired skin. Under normal circumstances Dean would have written his number on the cup that very first time, or at least the second time the guy came in. With this man, though, he honestly wasn’t sure he’d ever do it.

“Yes, please.” Broken out of his trance by the pleasant response, Dean smiled a little too quickly and awkwardly took the due payment from Cas’ soft hands. Not that he let their fingers linger together or anything, he just assumed they were soft. 

“It’ll be right out.” He chuckled, for no real reason and turned around to start making the drink before he could shoot himself in the foot anymore. Sam smirked from across the room where he was handing a group of girls their fancy fruit smoothies. 

Dean could make a Chai Tea Latte blindfolded while also strapped to a chair using only his teeth at this point, so the actual drink making only took a minute or two. What was going to make him have to apologize for the wait was how his hand was stuck at the end curl of the letter s. Today was the day, or so he had told Sam this morning. He should just go for it, Cas could just ignore it if he was being too forward. That was really the worst that could happen. Not the many deadly things Dean was convincing himself of. He should just go for it. In agreeance with that decision, some beautiful part of his brain decided to give him the image of how soft Cas’ hand might feel against his-

With that, he signed his death certificate and just put down those goddamn 7 numbers in black ink. There was no going back now and before he could decide to just put the thing in a new cup, his body turned itself around to face the object of his affection head on. 

“Sorry for the wait, uh. Here ya go.” Dean’s arm jutted out unceremoniously, but luckily Cas had the reflexes of a fucking puma or something because none of the hot liquid was spilt. 

“Thank you, Dean. I will see you tomorrow.” And that was it, nothing more. No glance at what Dean had written on the cup or anything. Just the usual farwell and Cas was out the door in a flash of light brown. 

“Awesome.” 

Somehow Dean managed to make it to closing without hyperventilating or burning the shop down with how distracted by the issue he was. He had given Cas, CAS, his number for christ sake and the dude couldn’t even have looked at the cup, done anything to give Dean an idea of whether he was getting himself a boyfriend, losing one of their best customers, or some awkward in between. 

Sam had been less than helpful, as usual, just calmly reassuring Dean that he ‘would call eventually’, that ‘the accountant dude was way into you man, it’ll be fine’ and ‘Dean don’t break the machine, there is nothing to panic about’. Dean could probably admit that Sam had a point, but he’d at least wait until after Cas called. Which he wouldn’t. It was already 6:30 and the phone hadn’t gone off once. Maybe tomorrow Dean would break that machine, it had caused the issue in the first place, making good lattes that made awkward hot guys come to the shop in the first place. Really, he should have killed that thing a long time ago. Why did he even think opening a fucking coffee shop was even a good idea in the first place? Seriously, he should have just stayed at the Auto shop like his Dad had asked, avoid this-

That train of thought was shot down the second the familiar Zeppelin song came blaring out of his phone. It wasn’t until he checked the caller ID and saw an unrecognized number that he even began to hope though. Even then it was a well managed hope that only made him trip once and knock a measly 5 books off the coffee table. He flipped the phone open, cheerfully squeaking out ’You got Dean’ and then held his breath for the response to be that familiar gravelly voice that had been haunting his dreams. 

“Hello, Dean. This is Castiel.” And fuck if those weren’t the 5 most beautiful words in this entire world.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a pointless drabble, might continue into a full verse.


End file.
